


Happily Ever After, My Arse!

by ximeria



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Crack, Dragons, Happily Ever After, Heroes and Villains, Humor, M/M, monsters under the bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-29 08:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20793728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: Fairy Land has had a nice, long run of the show Happily Ever After, but with it gearing up to its 13th season, the previous two years' dwindling viewer numbers mean this might be the last one.The premise has always been a selection of contestants competing for a happily ever after. No one has ever considered adding a clause specifying that villains can't participate. So what happens when the Master of Magnetism decides to join in on the 'fun'?The show might turn out to be a total disaster — or a total success if the show’s suffering host, Charles Xavier, manages to come to terms with several things, the pressing one among them being his budding attraction to this impossible man. Not that his co-host, Raven, makes it easy for Charles to stay in denial when she’s in charge of dressing up the contestants.Add in a tablespoon of Shrek, some How to Train your Dragon and a pinch of Monsters' Inc and your Happily Ever After might justnotflambè your arse





	Happily Ever After, My Arse!

**Author's Note:**

> The original idea for this came from a prompt on tumblr:
> 
> https://writing-prompt-s.tumblr.com/post/178550960959/theres-a-reality-show-competition-in-a-fairy-tale
> 
> Link to artwork done for this story: [by obsidian_harbinger](https://sieldraws.tumblr.com/post/188170172911/x-men-big-bang-happily-ever-after-my-arse). Both fic and artwork are part of the X-men Big Bang 2018/19.

  
Cover art by obsidian_harbinger/Sielustaja 

* * *

Charles stared at the contestants. His gaze skirted around the man to the far left. Then returned to him. "I'm sorry," he said, "can I have that one again?" The four other contestants looked a little ill at ease as well.

Raven leaned against the stairs to the stage, looking up at him. "Technically, nowhere in the rulebook does it say he can't participate."

"But Raven," Charles tried. He was, after all, the one who would be tasked with finding the perfect match for the contestants who took part in the game show. Not that there was a chance in hell that the Master of Magnetism would win, but still...

"But Charles," Raven replied, a perfect echo of his voice. "There really isn't, and where's the harm? If anything, it'll spruce things up a little."

Charles leaned down and whispered harshly. "Raven, the ratings were bad enough last season, we don't have to tank this right off the bat, you know."

Raven shrugged. "Emma thinks we should give it a shot - besides, we didn't know when he signed up. Didn't exactly put Magneto on his application, did he?"

Charles looked down at his clipboard. At the top the sparkly text read "Happily Ever After" - magically enhanced to keep sparkling. Their 13th season and Charles was beginning to think that they should have ended it last year when the ratings were at an all-time low. This would not be any better.

_Erik Lehnsherr_ the line read and Charles shook his head. If that was his name, he hadn't lied on the application and Raven was right. There probably wasn't a rule in the books about villains taking part in the show. And why would there be? No self-respecting villain of Fairy Land would sink so low as to take part in a reality show where the prize was a fairytale happy ending.

He coughed. "Welcome, people, to the pre-rehearsal of Happily Ever After. Please respond when I call your names, and tell me a little about yourselves." He drew a deep breath. "Please don't be shy." He checked the board again. "Katherine Pryde?"

"Sir," the young girl said, stepping forward. Wholesome, not terribly tall, sweet faced and so perfectly ordinary to look at that she was the kind of contestant the show thrived on - and who would most often win.

Charles took a reassuring breath and nodded encouragingly. She could go far. He looked down behind him at Raven who nodded, and traded whispered comments with their commentator, Thor, who had squeezed his long frame into one of the seats, nursing a large cup of coffee.

Charles envied him. The spectator's seat _and_ the coffee.

"I go by Kitty for short," Kitty Pryde said. "I have many skills. Among others, I can make myself intangible." With that she sank two feet into the stage, making Charles' heart jump in surprise. She then lifted one leg out and put it solidly on the stage floor and then pulled the other leg out as well - standing perfectly unscathed on the floor. Charles nodded approvingly. Young girl, seemed sweet, mildly magical. Perfect for this. "I'm currently an apprentice with our local witch," she continued.

"Any love interest?" Charles asked.

Kitty seemed to hesitate, then shook her head.

Ah, he'd have to dig there, if it was true love, and she won, then that could be a possible Happily Ever After scenario.

"Thank you, Kitty." Charles looked at his clipboard. "Logan?"

He looked up when a stocky man stepped forward. Okay, perhaps not your usual tall and strong hero, but this could work. Bushy sideburns and wild hair. Charles sighed internally. They were beginning to get the strange contestants, he could see that. After so many years of picture perfect participants, it was bound to happen.

"I'm Logan, I live in the woods - I'm good with animals, less good with people." He paused and shrugged. "I can do this." Knives shot from his knuckles and Charles felt like his heart skipped several beats at the sudden appearance of weapons on stage.

"Mr. Logan," Charles began.

"Just Logan, Chuck," Logan said, looking sagely at him, his knives returning to wherever he was keeping them.

"Thank you, Logan, and eh, please refer to me as Charles or Mr. Xavier, never as Chuck," Charles corrected him, finding his calm again.

"Sure thing, Chuck," Logan replied.

Charles sighed deeply. "So, Logan, do you have anyone special in your life?"

Logan made a face. "No."

Charles raised an eyebrow. A challenge then.

The next contestant was stunning to look at, at least. "Miss Ororo Monroe?" he urged.

"Thank you, sir," she said, stepping forward. Tall, dark skinned and with a shock of white hair. She would make an incredible winner, Charles thought to himself, envisioning the photoshoots. Perfect.

"I am a weather witch," she began. "My village calls me Storm, and I bring them the right weather for crops and defend it as a warrior in times of need."

Charles nodded approvingly. A capable hero, worthy of a happily ever after. "And is there anyone special in your life, Storm?"

She shook her head. "I have had little time for the matters of the heart," she admitted.

Charles sighed deeply. Perfect. "Thank you." Checking his clipboard, he carried on. "Kurt Wagner?" Charles turned to the second to last contestant.

Dark blue skin, lightly furred. Not your average participant, but Charles was an open-minded man.

"Thank you," the young man said with quite a bit of accent. "My village calls me Nightcrawler - I am the apprentice of our local priest and I have the gift of teleportation." He paused, looking at Charles.

"And do you have someone close to your heart, Kurt?" Charles asked. An apprentice to a priest. Interesting, but not impossible to work with. Unless there were chastity vows in there somewhere. That might make the pick harder.

"No, sir," Kurt said quickly, flushing almost purple under his blue fur.

"Alright," Charles said. He took a deep breath before turning to the last contestant. "Erik Lehnsherr?"

The tall, lanky man was wearing a garish outfit of mostly magenta and was a bit of an eyesore if anyone asked Charles. And the cape didn't help.

"Thank you," the man said, voice a little gruff. "I believe you know most refer to me as Magneto, the Master of Magnetism."

"Eh, yes, about that," Charles began.

"I felt that this show lacked a contestant from the other side of the aisle," Magneto continued, completely ignoring him. "I felt that this show, so far, has most assuredly focused far too much on the general public and completely ignored what a great hero needs," he carried on.

"And what would that be?" Charles asked, not really wanting an answer to this. At the same time he had to ignore the insane giggles erupting from Raven and Thor behind him in the front row.

Magneto blinked a couple of times, like Charles had asked a question he hadn't even considered might be asked. "Why, a great arch-nemesis of course. A fantastic villain, even."

Charles rubbed his temples. This was a mess. "Mr. Lehnsherr, this still doesn't quite answer why you would enter a show, where the prize is a personalized Happily Ever After."

Magneto stared at him and then shook his head, a strangely sad look on his face. "That's just it. Even us villains have feelings, we deserve a good life too. Are we not equals, are we not as important as the hero?"

Charles heard a distinct echo of 'or superior, even' and quickly put a lid on his gift. Raven was right, there was no rule against this, because no one had ever considered a villain joining.

Oh well, he would be out of the game within the first round - once they aired, and once he proved that he was not happily ever after material.

"Mr. Lehnsherr, then. Is there a special someone in your life?" Charles asked.

Magneto looked strangely like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, then he schooled his features into his usual superior look. "No, no one."

"Very well, then," Charles said, taking a deep breath. "Please, all of you follow Raven into the changing rooms, where she will go over the outfits for tonight's show."

Raven walked past him with a shit-eating grin on her face and Charles sighed. This was going to be a disaster. Turning around, he looked down at Thor who was sitting with his feet up on the back of the seats in front of him, laughter in his eyes. Next to him, Alex was standing, a slightly awestruck look on his face.

"Alex, get the cameras and the sound ready for tonight, will you? The stage is all yours for the next few hours. Thor?" Charles would have to control what he could.

"Yes, the booth is ready and Alex has checked everything for sound up there," Thor replied, a small smile on his face. "Don't worry, Charles, it'll all turn out for the best."

"Did you consult with the soothsayers?" Charles asked acidly.

"No, I just have a feeling that it will," Thor grinned, gulping down the rest of his coffee. "Try to relax a little, you're always so tense."

Charles almost bit back at this, but then let out a deep sigh. Thor wasn't wrong, but Charles was always high strung at the cusp of a new season. Emma relied on him to do his part and with the ratings the past few seasons having gone down, they probably wouldn't have more than this season to get things going in the right direction again - and having a villain taking part would probably not do the ratings any favours.

* * *

Erik touched the outfit he was going to wear for the evening's show and for the hundredth time wondered why he was doing this to himself.

Well, he was doing it for the reasons he'd explained at the introduction, but he was kidding himself if he thought that that was the sole reason for his moment of insanity when he'd signed up for the show.

He had to admit to himself that he had a bit of a soft spot for it. Not so much for the contestants, for whom he had little sympathy, but because what he had initially set out to mock had become a bit of a guilty pleasure for him.

And at least he hadn't completely frozen when faced with Xavier. And it had been a real worry of Erik's, especially when he'd realized that the man was even more charismatic and nice in real life.

So yes, what had initially started as an opportunity to mock a tv-show, when an acquaintance of his had turned his attention to it years back, not to mention giving Erik ample opportunity to yell at Shaw on the screen, had become something very much different.

Now he was in it, in the show, on the same stage as Xavier and he was going to damn well do his best to be charming - shut up, he could be charming when he put his mind to it. And he'd show them all that he was perfectly capable of doing these stupid ass assignments just as well as some goody-two-shoes who had their sights set on the heir of the throne and half the kingdom.

Of course he wouldn't get far, the whole land being so very prejudiced against his kind. Just because he provided a much needed balance in the world, they hated him with a passion, feared him even.

What would the world be if not for him and his kind? Would the so-called heroes have an opponent if not for his kind? Would the country be populated with heroes who would never achieve social acceptance and adoration if they had no one to fight?

Erik felt, quite frankly, that he was doing everyone a favour.

* * *

_Good evening, fairies, good folk, all and one, and welcome to the opening of another intense season of Happily Ever After. Tonight's hosts are standing at the ready to take you into the magic of yet another season of Happily Ever After. Please give a warm welcome to Charles Xavier and Raven Darkholme.___

The lights went up, bathing the stage in dazzling colours, a cloud of pixies taking off from the centre of the stage - in their stead, between a heartbeat and the next, stood Charles and Raven, both smiling widely.

It was probable, Charles thought to himself, that Raven's smile was more sincere than his was. The headache from earlier hadn't quite gone away after he'd dealt with their five contestants. Normally he would be floating on the expectations and joy from the audience, but tonight it was only adding to that blasted headache. For the first time ever, he had to keep a tighter hold on his gift than he normally would on stage. He wanted nothing more than to feel the rush from the audience like he normally did, but perhaps this once, he would keep it on the low, saving himself from having to deal with the pressure of so many minds in the same place.

"Good evening, everyone - here in the studio as well as at home in front of your screens, mirrors and crystal balls," Charles called out, watching the audience applaud and feeling the fire he always loved from so many minds in one place, all waiting and full of excited expectations. He held out his hand and took Raven's.

"Welcome to the new season of Happily Ever After," Raven took over. "And before we introduce the new contestants, please welcome back our lovely panel of judges."

The light swung to the judges' panel table, highlighting the first seat and Thor's voice boomed out: _"Please welcome back Sebastian Shaw."_ The audience did a rather half-enthusiastic applause at this, and Shaw looked like he'd sucked a lemon.

Charles sighed internally. If they could have gotten rid of Shaw it would have been wonderful, but he was the country's leading producer of potions and had put money into the program before it had first aired and become popular - and had of course 'earned' a place on the board. However little the audience tended to like his petty comments and sour disposition.

_"And again this year, we get the lovely Moira Mactaggert on the panel as well. Welcome back, milady,"_ Thor continued. This time the audience were plenty more enthusiastic.

It didn't help, Charles thought to himself, that Thor would favour the rest of the judges because he, much like everyone else, disliked Shaw. Well, Shaw's right-hand man, Stryker, seemed to like him well enough - either that or Shaw had something on the man that kept him mostly two steps behind him. Currently he was looming somewhere in the vicinity of Shaw. Not close enough to be in the way, but close enough to stress Charles a little. He couldn't put his finger on what it was about the man that set him on edge, but there was something there, no doubt about it.

_"And last, but not least, one of my dear friends, Sir Anthony - who also still owes me some proper mjöðr."_ The audience went wild, as always and Tony Stark waved wildly at the adoring masses - then turned towards the booth where Thor was, and gave him a thumbs up.

Charles manfully refrained from rolling his eyes. Especially since the spotlight was back on him and Raven again.

"Tonight, we introduce to you the five contestants who this season will be competing for the prize of Happiness - the forever kind," Charles said, keeping his voice low and warm. "Because deep down, is this not what we dream of? Of the perfect partner, the love of our life?"

The audience aw'd and called back in agreement.

"Behind the lovely Raven and myself are five booths, each holds a contestant ready to step forward and take on tonight's challenge." He stepped forward and rounded the first of the five covered tables. "Under these covers are the props that the contestants are given, but before we tell you and them what they are about to embark on, please, Raven, would you introduce the contestants and tell us your choice of their outfits tonight?"

Raven took over her part of the show. She was fantastically good at dressing contestants - partly because she could go through costume tests in the blink of an eye due to her gift. Charles smiled as he watched her bring out Kitty, whom she'd dressed in overalls - utilitarian - but she'd kept the style to accentuate the young girl's good looks. A white t-shirt under the blue overalls - if it had been a skirt, Charles felt it could have been taken right off Alice. He silently applauded Raven. The assignment of the night could get messy and flowy garments would get in the way.

After Raven had given a short introduction, she left Kitty in front of the first table. She did the same with Logan, who she'd dressed in a proper lumberjack's shirt - because Raven was a sassy little bastard on a good day. It didn't make him look off, and the rolled up sleeves definitely didn't make him look bad either.

At the third table, she left Storm, and dear goodness had Raven done well with her as well. Tall and striking as she was, Storm was dressed in a black outfit, nearly skin tight, with a golden stripe down either side of it. The short sleeves would aid her as well, Charles agreed silently. Well done, Raven.

Kurt's outfit was quite dashing. Long boots ending just under the knees, and black pants, topped with a lovely red shirt. In this perhaps, Charles felt it would have been better to stick with something darker. Stains would show, and there were always stains from the potion-making. But still, quite dashing.

All through this, the audience had been enthusiastic as always. The first reveal was always something great - it always left a fantastic tension in the air, to Charles at least.

Then Raven led Magneto out. There was no doubt who he was - everyone in Fairy Land knew who Magneto was and what he looked like, but the hushed silence when he stepped forward, Charles felt, could only have been down to this partly - the surprise at finding a villain of such proportions as a contestant on the show

Mostly, Charles was busy staring, because damn, Raven had outdone herself. Where Magneto had been dressed in an eyesore of magenta when he'd first introduced himself, these clothes were quite different. The whole ensemble rather complimented his surprisingly good looks. Black trousers that were, Charles felt, perhaps a little on the tight side, and a dark purple turtleneck.

Simple but stunning.

Charles swallowed, wishing he had something to drink, because his mouth felt dry like the desert. And very much at counterpoint to the fact that his palms were sweaty and his heart beating just a little faster.

Then the audience exploded into cheers and Charles was seriously surprised. He didn't miss the muttered 'what the hell' from Shaw, though, because he was standing close enough to the judges. Nor did he miss the wolf whistle from Tony, but Charles was used to that, so he chose to ignore it.

Once the audience had quietened down a little, Raven introduced Magneto - well, she introduced Erik Lehnsherr, and Charles had to keep telling himself that one or two rounds and Magneto would be out and all would be back to normal. And he wouldn't have to live through what he knew would be Raven's crusade to put the man in increasingly hotter outfits every week.

"Tonight's challenge, that shall bring us down from five to four contestants is one we're bringing back from the fifth season - a viewer favourite," Charles announced, waiting for the right level of jittery expectation from the audience before going on. "Tonight we want the contestants to create a potion - and they get free reign as long as they can do it within fifteen minutes. The higher the level of potion skill showed, the higher the score." He stopped for a moment, then carried on, because he really had to remind contestants. "And to you contestants, please keep your choice of potions to something safe. Nothing explosive, nothing lethal."

Charles knew his microphone was off then and that Thor was taking over the narration. He'd give the historical account of potions while Raven and Charles would survey the contestants and keep an eye on safety as well.

Each contestant was set up with a half-circular worktop with anything they might need for the assignment ahead. Standard potion ingredients only. Charles and Raven circled the contestants and Charles tried hard not to notice how easily Magneto was dealing with his potion of choice. Hell, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was going to be.

He spoke to Kitty, who was focussing on a potion that would bring wilted flowers to life. Not the easiest of potions, but one that could be done in the short time they had. Kurt was struggling with his, but seemed to believe enough in himself to make it through. And his transmorph potion was coming along nicely.

Logan… Logan's potion was a simple one - it could speed up regeneration - health. Not a bad one and one fairly simple to make. Even if Charles was a little surprised to see his choice of potion. He'd expected something more like how to skin an animal in five seconds.

Now Storm, being the skilled manipulator of weather, had chosen to create a rain storm in a potion. Something that Charles knew was quite hard to do and could get her a very good price. Places where it rarely rained? They paid a good sum of money for such potions.

She also made it seem so terribly easy - Charles was impressed - and he knew the judges would be as well. Even Shaw, the cranky old man.

Charles took a deep breath. Magneto. "So, Magneto, what have you chosen to make tonight?"

Magneto shot him a look that for a second was like a deer caught in the headlights. Then it was gone. "Just a simple potion to make the user able to speak with conviction that will turn any crowd or person to their views." He paused for a moment, eyes locked on Charles'. "And call me Erik, please." He seemed to be leaning towards Charles, then shook himself and took a step back, though he never took his eyes off Charles, expression unreadable.

Charles felt a little weird for a moment, and a dark voice in the back of his asked him what if he helped speed things along? Surely Magneto would be voted off the show either tonight or in the next round? Scolding himself silently, he knew he couldn't be that stupid. The game show was as fair as it should be. Magneto wouldn't last more than a round or two, anyway. Charles smiled at him, because fate would have it her own way and he might as well be friendly while they were on screen.

Then Magneto, er, Erik, looked a little surprised, fumbled with his vials, and then cursed under his breath - hopefully low enough that they wouldn't have to bleep it out.

"And I think we'll leave the Master of Magnetism to his potion - please stay tuned for when we return after a short word from our sponsors," Charles said, with as wide and assured smile as possible. He wasn't entirely sure if Magneto's potion might blow up, because the man was working frantically to get his potion back to a more normal and less volatile state.

It poofed suspiciously pink and then seemed to die down and since Magneto seemed to relax a little, even if he was scowling at the potion, Charles took it to mean they would survive.

He watched the teleprompter to let him know that they were back on the air in less than ten seconds. Charles took that moment to find his focus again. There was something about Magneto that threw him off kilter.

The cameras returned to focus on them all and Thor lead them into the judges segment. "Ladies and gentlebeings, you have five minutes to finish your potions," Thor's voice boomed over the speakers, "any tampering with the potions after the bell sounds, will automatically disqualify you and your score will be 0 - and the audience votes will be forfeited."

Charles fell back to stand next to Raven, feeling a little more like himself. He wasn't entirely sure what it was about Magneto that was so unsettling to him. Of course, Charles was one of the good guys, while Magneto was, for all intents and purposes, a villain.

The bell finally rang and the five contestants stepped back from their tables, Kitty and Kurt were looking a little unsure of themselves, while Ororo and Logan looked like butter wouldn't melt. Magneto looked for a moment like he'd forgotten something and then decided that oh, well - it couldn't be that bad.

"Welcome back to the show," Thor said, "and the bell just rang - so I shall let Charles and Raven do their thing."

"Thank you, Thor," Raven called out, and turned to the audience. "The first challenge of the season, the potions challenge back by popular demand."

"And have the contestants managed to create their potions?" Charles asked her, giving her a hand as they stepped down a step to go to the judges. The crew were already bringing the potions over to the judges. And still nothing had exploded or displaced anyone. Thank the fae for small mercies.

"That is up to our panel of judges - and especially Mr. Shaw, who is, as you all know, _the_ potions master of the land." Raven linked her arm through Charles'. "I don't know about you, Charles, but I can't wait to hear the verdicts."

"Then by all means, let's get to it," Charles agreed.

The first potion, Kitty's, was received well enough, as was Storm's and Logan's. Kurt's… oh well-

"It's not bad, my boy," Shaw said haughtily, "but it could be a little stronger." Something gleamed in his eyes. "If it is okay with you, I shall take it along as a souvenir - not a bad start, but you may want to work on the strength of your potion."

Kurt looked crestfallen. Logan patted him on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear that made the poor boy blush.

"Now, Magneto here, supposedly quite good with potions - adequate perhaps?" Shaw almost sneered when it came to the last contestant.

Moira had sniffed the potion and deemed it potent, but not entirely sure if it would do what Magneto had set out to. Tony… had poked and prodded at it and shaken his head. "Strong stuff, Magnetor, but I'm with Moira here - not sure it does the trick. Four points for potency, at least," he said finally.

Magneto had looked like he'd sucked a lemon. The question was if it was due to the low score or Tony's blatant mispronunciation of his name.

Shaw looked superior as he gazed down at Magneto, who looked much like he'd like to strangle the man. "Well, the other potions had good use, water in dry areas, re-animation, teleportation and healing. But a potion to influence someone?" He sniffed the bottle, and looked shocked. "This won't influence the user, you moron. No points, not what you set out to do," Shaw said with a wave of the hand. "Not a surprise there that you would fail, zero points from me."

There was some booing from the audience, but there always was when Shaw chose his contestant-to-despise which he did every season. 

"Well, what's the score so far?" Charles looked up at the numbers floating above the contestants heads. "Kitty 10, Logan 12, Kurt 12, Storm 18," he read out loud. "And Magneto 5." He ignored Shaw's snort.

"Thor, do we have the numbers from the viewer votes?" he asked.

"I am sending them down to the lovely miss Raven as we speak," Thor boomed. "And you may be in for a surprise. As we wait for the envelope to get to our lovely hosts, let me refresh your memories; the judges on the panel can give out any score from 0-10 to each contestant, bringing the max score from any round to 30 - you, the viewers and the audience have equal power - your votes will be added to the score, with the highest votes equalling 10 points, the next highest 8, 6, 4 and 2." Thor was quiet for a moment. "And I can see the lovely Miss Raven has the envelope, so Charles, I give the limelight back to you."

"And my dear Raven, what are the votes?" Charles asked, feeling the usual jitters about this. One never knew who the viewers might latch on to. Last year it had been Scott Summers, who had been terribly boring, but very much the public darling.

Raven opened the envelope, stared for a moment and a shit eating grin lit up her face. "The receiver of the 2 points is Logan, bringing him to 14 points." There was the usual reaction from people in the audience, some boo'ed, others cheered.

"The 4 points go to Kurt, bringing him to 16 points," she continued, the numbers above the contestants changing with each addition. "This is getting exciting," she said with an exaggerated wink.

"It truly is," Charles agreed. Part of him knew they should be dragging it out, but part of him was with everyone else - wanting to know what the score would be.

"The 6 points from the viewers go to Kitty, landing her on 16 in all - quite the jump there," Raven said with a smile. "Storm, obviously popular with the viewers, gets the 8 points, leaving her on 26 - and tonight's surprise with full 10 viewer points going to Erik Lehnsherr, the Master of Magnetism, who ends up on 15 points!"

For a moment the room was silent, then the audience exploded in applause.

Charles had his back to the camera and eyeballed Raven. What the hell had just happened?

Raven just danced over to him, grabbed his arm and off they were. First stop Logan. "We're sorry to see you go, Logan," Raven said, patting him on the arm. "But well done, well done."

"Well, can't win at everything," Logan said with a grin, winking at Charles. "And I may not be entirely devoid of my own little happy ending." With that, he winked at Kurt, who took on the colour of an aubergine. "At least, I got the kid's phone number."

Charles took a deep breath. Oh well, he thought, it could have been worse. Actually, he could practically hear Shaw fuming at the judges' table. Not exactly the worst outcome he could imagine.

Magneto looked surprised, perhaps a little flustered as well. Charles himself wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it all, but at least their season opening hadn't been dull?

"Congratulations, Mr. Lehnsherr," Charles said, offering his hand. "How does it feel to be the viewers' favourite?"

Magneto looked at his hand for a moment, then took it, grip strong and warm, sending a shiver down Charles' spine. What the heck was that? Almost like a small current running up his arm making his skin tingle.

"Thank you, I… don't know what to say," Magneto replied, looking more than a little shaken.

Charles felt his own resolve to want this man to lose waver for a moment. This has come as a surprise to him as well, but someone who had a reputation like Magneto could apparently be surprised by other people's faith in him.

"Well, looks like you managed very well, afterall," Charles said, allowing himself a small smile, then realized that he was still holding onto Magneto's hand.

He very carefully let go of it, trying to make it as natural as possible, though Magneto seemed just as surprised at the long handshake.

Raven and he made the rounds to the other contestants, offering their congratulations as the show came to an end.

As it were, the lights went down and everyone went home. This had, after all, simply been the first round - it was to see how well a villain could hold up in the race for Happily Ever After.

As the staff began cleaning up, an old man, white hair and beard, pushed a broom across the stage, muttering to himself. About how in his youth, no one would have let a scoundrel and villain like Magneto on a show like this. About how times had changed and how Magneto wouldn't last long anyway---

* * *

Erik stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

There was nothing there, nothing new, nothing changed, yet…

How the heck had that even happened? One moment he'd known he'd had his 15 minutes of fame, and he'd been okay with that, had fully known going in that he wouldn't last for more than one round. And it wasn't even the judges’ fault, or anyone else's really. It had all been Erik's own fault for spacing out on the way Xavier's eyes shone and how close they'd been on the stage.

Yes, it had entirely been his own fault that the potion had flunked, because he'd lost his normally perfect focus for long enough to screw up the recipe of something he normally was capable of creating in his sleep.

The small, but rather cozy, accommodations the show had given them seemed almost claustrophobic to him for a moment. Partly because he was used to roaming his secluded castle, but also because he still couldn't quite reconcile with the fact that he'd gone on to the second round, even with that blunder he'd managed on stage.

"It's your own fault," he muttered, returning to the living slash bedroom area. How the heck had he managed to get so distracted? He'd partly hoped his obsession with Xavier would have crumbled once he'd met him and had a chance to talk to him. Because the man couldn't be as nice and as inviting as he seemed on the screen.

Erik's downfall; he was, and even more than Erik could have ever guessed.

"One more round," he said. "One more round and I'll be out on my ass, proving my point that last night was an aberration." The viewers at home must have voted solely this way to show their disapproval with the show in general and not because they thought Erik deserved it.

Erik turned to the day's newspaper and flipped through, out of idle curiosity, to see what they were saying about the show.

* * *

**Happily Ever After - a Train Wreck or Magical Brilliance?**

Last night's season opening of Season 13 of Happily Ever After was a bit of a surprise. Critics are not agreeing, but the public seems to have taken a renewed interest in the ailing show. Viewer numbers were not impressive on the night, but Re-view on demand has been incredible, perhaps promising a larger number of viewers for the next episode.

In other news: An accident occurred on the set of Happily Ever After. Stryker, a staunch enemy of the show, entered during the show and thought that the potion from Magneto, a potion meant to give the user a higher appeal to people, had been perfect for his vile plans, and he had managed to get his hands on it. Apparently, the potion had gone wrong and was a very potent love potion. Mr. Stryker is currently under lock and key, lamenting the loss of his greatest love. It seems Mr. Shaw was the first person Stryker had seen after ingesting the potion. Hence the on-set security had had to take Stryker into custody, as he'd been repeatedly trying to kiss Shaw, exclaiming in a loud voice that he wanted nothing more than to please the love of his life.

* * *

**Clips from the archives of interviews of viewers on the street after the first episode of yet another season of Happily Ever After:**

_\--"No, no, I just want to know what the lumberjack said to the kid," the man said with a wave. "Must've been something to make him blush like that."  
_

_\--"Yeah, it was alright, bit of a surprise there to see a villain on the show, though. Seemed pretty taken with Mr. Xavier, though - cute couple they'd make. The missus said the same when we were watching it."_

_\--"I wasn't going to watch it, you know. Boring same old, same old, but then a friend of mine suggested watching the re-run because apparently it was a bit different this year. Can't say I regret watching it, and I'm definitely watching tonight's episode!"_

* * *

Raven threw the paper down on Charles' makeup table, waggling an eyebrow at him. "Cute couple, huh?"

"Please, Raven," Charles interrupted her before she could get any further on the topic. He'd seen the headlines, had seen the speculation online. "I have no idea where people get their delusions from these days."

"Delusions, Charles?" Raven was gearing up to argue with him, he could tell from the headache brewing in the back of his head.

She was, however, interrupted, when the door to Charles' dressing room was pushed open and Emma Frost breezed in. She was as always wearing startlingly white clothes and shone like a jewel.

"Charles, darling, you simply have to continue as you have so far."

Charles turned slowly in his chair, staring at her. "I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

"Your fabulous on screen chemistry with Mr. Lehnsherr is truly racking up the viewing polls."

"Emma, the ratings weren't that high," Charles argued. Or tried to. Sometimes speaking to Emma Frost was like trying to talk to a wall. A very high, thick wall of ice, that was.

"Hush, sugar, you have obviously not seen the streaming numbers after last night's show," she told him, patting his shoulder. "The numbers are fantastic - now if those numbers transfer to the next episode, I believe we are on the right track - back to our glory days."

Charles hid his face in his hand. "Emma, I fail to see what it is you want me to do."

"Why, my dear, you simply need to keep flirting with Lehnsherr on screen - you've been doing marvelously so far."

"We've barely been in the same shot together for more than a few seconds!" Charles argued.

Emma put a flat, round crystal on the table in front of Charles and waved her hand over it. A replay of the potions episode ran, and he looked in absolute horror as he and Magneto seemed to be almost leaning into each other in the scene. That couldn't be, could it? Charles had been contemplating sabotaging Magneto at that moment, and he'd been looking at Charles with a… wistful expression. Charles felt his own face should have looked more villainous, but for some reason, he was caught at that very moment, staring right into Magneto's eyes. And Charles could, oddly enough, remember exactly what shade they had been.

Shaking his head, Charles sighed deeply. "Emma-"

"No buts, Charles, we need the numbers."

Charles hung his head in defeat. "I blame you if he wins and I have to find his Happily Ever After."

"Just ask him what he wants," Raven said with a wink, which made Emma laugh out loud.

* * *

The second show night was about to get more surreal than Charles could have expected. Thor had handed him a note before they had gone on stage, with the newest viewing numbers, including the streaming and re-runs.

Somewhere, someone hated him.

With a passion.

And, Charles realized, Raven had it in for him. And she probably had the full backing of Emma. Strike that, she definitely had the full backing of Emma.

The night's assignment was another revived one from one of the early seasons. Slay the beast. A dragon would be conjured up and the contestants had to slay it - or at least survive and trap it. But if a contestant could slay it, that would automatically give them the upper hand in the competition. As this was the point of the exercise.

Back to Raven being a conniving bastard, because she was once again dressing the contestants. Everyone looked amazing, like out of a good medieval setting. But Magneto… oh dear.

Charles took a deep breath and plastered on his usual show host smile. She had chosen to dress Magneto in nothing but a loincloth, and while he wasn't built, he was lean, long, had a narrow waist and… was wearing next to nothing.

Years of self control was all that stood between Charles and a libideous breakdown.

It started out well enough, even if the audience was a little too vocally appreciative of Magneto's physical appearance.

Storm subdued her beast with a bolt of lighting for long enough to escape it. Her black robes flowed around her like a veil, her white hair almost shining in the moment. The audience approved greatly.

Charles drew a slightly easier breath. Perfect.

The judges seemed to agree with him, as Storm was given 7 from Moira, 8 from Tony and 5 from Shaw. The latter snidely commenting that 10 would be reserved if she'd slain the beast.

Kitty, with her glorious power, easily evaded the beast and even managed to make it intangible and sink its foot into the ground to keep it in place.

Again Shaw decided on 5, Moira on 8 and Tony on 7.

Kurt, unfortunately, failed altogether, nearly getting fried, his tail singed in the process.

4 from Moira, 5 from Tony, for evading for as long as he did, and 0 from Shaw.

The only thing that could destroy Charles right now, would be for Magneto to manage a full slaying.

Standing next to him, before he went onto the stage, Charles had to block out the absolute perversion of the audience enjoying a mostly naked Master of Magnetism. It wasn't easy, but it gave him something to focus on that wasn't, in truth, the half naked man standing next to him.

"Mr. Lehnsherr," Charles said, "the stage is all yours."

"Thank you," Lehnsherr said. Then hesitated for a moment. "And I believe I asked you to call me Erik."

Charles was a little taken aback by this. Because… Lehnsherr sounded so sincere.

For each contestant, an egg had been set up in the centre of the stage and a beast had hatched. A chimera, a wyrm, and the most popular with the audience; dragons. At that very moment, a large magenta egg was sitting, waiting for Lehnsherr to handle whatever would hatch from it. The shell was almost iridescent in places. There was a warm, pulsing beat emanating from it, like a very slow heartbeat, as if something big was sleeping inside. Lehnsherr walked ever so carefully around it, waiting for his challenge.

Charles tried very much to just focus on the egg, because anything else was mostly just… bare skin, really. And confusing. Why did the man insist on using first names? Among the fae that could give you power over someone. Unless, of course, it was a fake name. Not that people knowing your name gave them power, but if you gave it to them, like Lehnsherr had just done...

The egg wobbled a bit and split, suddenly, in a roar of fire. A small dragon, about the size of a small horse, wobbled out onto the stage, looking very cranky. They generally didn't like being stuffed into the magic eggs and it normally meant the contestant would have to be truly clever to survive un-singed, let alone slay it.

Lehnsherr moved as if to attack the dragon, but stopped a few steps before he reached it. There was an odd distant look on his face, and in front of all the viewers, he did something with his weapons, changing them all into a shiny ball. 

The young dragon's hissing turned to a curious coo'ing and what Charles would hesitate to call a squeal of delight. It wobbled forward again, eyes firmly focused on the ball. Lehnsherr brought the ball closer to himself and reached out, very carefully, to let the dragon sniff his fingers. A moment later, the creature let out a huff of smoke and rubbed up against his hand.

Lehnsherr turned to the audience, a dark look on his face. "Why would you abuse such a lovely creature and expect any of us to - as you put it - slay it? What has it ever done to you?" 

He braced his stance as the dragon sidled up next to him and proceeded to rub itself against him like it was a giant cat, making him brace himself to keep from toppling over from the force. He petted it absentmindedly, his full attention on the audience, then the judges, and then, finally, eyes full of passion and righteous ire, he looked at Charles.

Charles felt something odd in his chest as he met Lehnsherr's eyes. Like his heart shrank for a moment, then grew three sizes at the empathy instilled by the words, the passion. Between the heat of Lehnsherr's conviction and the change in the dragon youngling, so lovingly rubbing itself against Lehnsherr, so far from what they were raised to think of dragons, Charles could not have looked away if he tried. 

It was possible that the final nail in Charles' casket was the look on Lehnsherr's face. There was an unfamiliar softness to him when he looked at the dragon.

Or possibly it was better likened to the final match to his funeral pyre, as Charles felt the bleed of passion from Lehnsherr, not just the tone of voice, the choice of words, but the _intent_ behind them, the testimony to Lehnsherr's passion as he addressed them all, scolding them for treating a dragon like an animal. Charles wasn't going to delve into his own psyche, but there was a definite possibility that all aforementioned reasons had come into play. 

And the bloody lack of clothes that were _all_ Raven's fault.

Charles was startled back to reality when he heard Thor's voice in his ear, the man far too amused for his own good. However, he was right. As magnificent as the whole scene had been, they had a show to run.

"Yeah, I know," Charles agreed, carefully making his way to Lehnsherr's side, keeping a wary eye on the dragon. The creature lifted it's head and regarded him with a certain level of animosity, until Lehnsherr's petted it's head and muttered something into its ear - or what Charles figured would be the ear. He watched as Lehnsherr tugged on one of the spikes of the dragon's neck. 

The dragon rumbled, and Charles hesitated for a moment before labelling it purring. Like a cat. It turned its brilliant eyes on Charles and huffed out a small cloud of smoke, moseying forward to butt its head against Charles' hand.

"Go on," Lehnsherr said quietly, a soft, almost shy smile on his face. 

Charles realized what he meant and before he could stop himself, he turned his hand and carefully petted the dragon. The whole studio was deadly quiet, but when the dragon rumbled happily, someone started applauding and before long, the whole place was going crazy.

"I eh, don't want to leave her here."

Charles was startled as he turned to look at Lehnsherr. "Erm, that's okay, I'll make sure it's taken care off until, erm, afterwards?" He paused for a moment. "Do you want to take it home?"

"I think it would be best if I did," Lehnsherr said, steel under his soft voice. 

Charles caught a whiff of his mind and how much he obviously wasn't expecting them to take well enough care of the poor thing.

Actually, Charles felt mildly sorry for what they had put the animals through. Especially right at that very moment looking straight into the dragon's eyes. Animals and legendary beasts, their minds he could not read, but the eyes were, as one would say, the windows of the soul. Lifting his eyes, he almost regretted it. If he'd had a bit of a revelation looking into the dragon's eyes, it was nothing compared to looking into Lehnsherr's.

And to use a stupid cliche, he fell. Not just fell, for a split second he lost his usually tight rein on his gift, and sank into the most welcoming ocean hurricane - its eye cradling him like a baby.

_'Charles! We've cut to the advertising and news break to let the judges vote,'_ Thor's voice boomed in his ear, startling him back into control. Thor sounded unnecessarily amused.

Charles looked down at his hand still on the dragon's head, right next to Lehnsherr's, barely a fraction of air between their hands. Charles very carefully extracted his hand and broke eye contact with Lehnsherr, who looked about as shell-shocked as Charles felt.

"Please, join the judges, Mr. Lehnsherr, I'll… make sure the dragon is taken care of and will be waiting for you afterwards," Charles said, pretty much trying to gather his tattered professionalism.

Lehnsherr studied him for a moment, then nodded, nudging the dragon. "Go with him, I'll come find you later."

The dragon snuffled at his hand, then blew a small cloud of smoke and turned to saunter over to Charles who had stepped back a little. 

_'Bring it up to my booth, Charles'_ Thor told him, _'I like dragons.'_

Charles shook his head, suppressing a smile. He had a few moments to gather his wits before they would go back to the show, the commercial break nearly at the end.

Everyone kept out of Charles' way as he lead the dragon up the stairs that ran from the back of the stage area to the walkways that lead to the sound booth up above the whole venue.

The dragon eyed Thor for a moment when Charles opened the door to the booth, but when Thor didn't hesitate and reached out to scratch it under the chin, it pretty much melted into a boneless puddle at the side of his chair.

It was a wonder that Charles was surprised these days. He knew his colleague was big and buff, and that many expected him to behave like the archetypical brawny hero, but he'd seen the man before with animals and while Thor dealt perfectly fine with people, he obviously felt more at ease with animals. 

Charles eyed Lehnsherr as he re-entered to backstage area… No, Charles corrected himself. After that moment on the stage, he couldn't really keep distancing himself by the use of last names or villainous monikers. He watched _Erik_ as he went back to the stage. Perhaps it wasn't impossible that, much like Thor, Erik felt more at ease with animals. Who knew?

Just before he went back up to join the judges and start the show again after their commercial break and their little… moment, Raven stopped him at the stairs to the stage itself.

"What was that all about?" she asked him curiously.

"Nothing, don't know what you're talking about," Charles replied, on autopilot. He was busy trying to digest it anyway, and part of him wanted to shove the questions in his mind back into the darkest, dankest corner of his mind.

"Look, I know I dressed him like a beefcake happy meal," she mumbled, "but Charles…"

Charles shook off her hand, bracing himself. He did not need her to point out what the moment had been. Well, awkward wasn't the right word, was it? More like ...the stuff fairytales were made of? Charles did very much not facepalm in the middle of the stage as Thor counted down in his ear, but he was doing it inside his head. Repeatedly.

"Welcome back, ladies and gentlebeings," Thor's voice boomed out. "My esteemed colleague Mr. Xavier is on the stage ready to take you to the judges' table for their points for Mr. Lehnsherr."

Charles smiled widely at the cameras, too professional to let the previous moment get to him or at least to let it show to the viewers.

"Thank you, Thor, my friend, and indeed, welcome back all." He turned to the judges as the light swung to their side. "And with that, I ask our esteemed judges to relay their points for Mr. Lehnsherr." He paused for drama, then turned to Moira. "Miss Moira?"

"Thank you Charles," she replied. "I have to admit I had my doubts, Mr. Lehnsherr," she said to him. "But you proved me very much wrong. You chose an unorthodox way of handling the situation - and perhaps, if the world would think outside the box like you did, it would be a better place."

"Miss Moira?" Charles prompted her for her points, trying to not smile too widely. She was right.

"10 points to Mr. Lehnsherr," Moira said, harvesting the loudest cheers from the audience.

Charles felt his breath hitch. He had never expected things to go this far. "Thank you, Moira. Tony?"

Tony waved at him, then turned to Moira. "You gave him 10 points because of his pecs, didn't you?"

Moira rolled her eyes at him, but didn't answer.

"Well, I can't say I blame her, Lehnsherr, you hide all that under those eyesores of costumes? Take it from me, you shouldn't, you've got that, I say, flaunt it."

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, very much not looking at Erik, though he could feel the mild embarrassment coming off him. "Tony?"

"Give me a moment to gush, Charles, will you?" Tony complained. "I shall manfully ignore the pecs, the deltoids, the abs," Tony said, "and focus on what you did. I'm with Moira. You really chose a way out no one has before. And I like dragons, so you're getting 9 points - I can't give you 10, I have to deduct 1 point because I'm so damned jealous of those abs."

Charles tried not to think about those abs, but if Tony kept bringing them up… "Thank you, Tony. Mr. Shaw?"

The derisive snort from Shaw told Charles in no small words what Shaw thought of the performance.

"I'll give Mr. Lehnsherr 1 point for surviving the task, but that's all I can do. He completely failed at even attempting to finish it." Shaw looked smug.

"Thank you, Mr. Shaw," Charles said, feeling a little annoyed on Erik's behalf. That had been completely uncalled for. "Now," he continued, turning to the cameras and walking back into the middle of the stage. "To everyone at home, please cast your votes. You have the next three minutes to do so and we shall be back after the commercial break as well as tonight's weather forecast.” 

Charles took a deep breath and most definitely did not watch as Raven lead Erik out backstage.

What a fucking mess. He took another deep breath. Whatever had happened between them on the stage earlier had to have been nothing. Just Charles' mind playing tricks on him. They had perhaps, for a moment, bonded over the dragon. Erik obviously had a different idea when it came to dragons and how to deal with them, and Charles had to admit that he probably had been right. They had always treated mythological beasts as pests and trouble. But having stood there with a hand on the warm scales of the dragon… well, perhaps Charles had simply never given it much thought.

It had nothing to do with Erik himself and the man suddenly seemingly more approachable than before.

When the numbers came in, Charles shook his head in amazement. Again, Erik blew everyone else out of the water. It was as if the public had decided that the villainous man should suddenly have the opportunity to have a happily ever after.

It also meant that if, and this was a strong if, Erik ended up winning, then Charles would have to be the one to find and orchestrate the happily ever after.

It would be damned near impossible, yet while he would normally start digging into the contestants' past and speak with their friends, he felt weirdly reluctant to do so at the moment.

* * *

_Various interviews:_

"I mean, that moment they had was pretty much it, wasn't it?"

"I think they're adorable, and I'm sure they'll find a little castle to move into together and adopt the dragon as pet!"

* * *

Charles rubbed his eyes. The general reaction from the public was on the insane side if you asked him. Not that any one was. He knew from Raven that people were running one wild theory across the forum boards after the other. Most of them seemed to involve Erik and himself in some kind of domestic bliss, or romantic setting.

Charles did everything he could to ignore it all. He was the host of the show, he had to focus on the whole thing, not how people saw one of the contestants and seemingly wanted him to shag up with him.

And adopt the dragon as their pet.

* * *

Erik followed the blonde kid up the stairs to the booth where the narrator of the show had his work station.

"It's Alex," Alex said, when he knocked on the door. "I have Mag- I mean, Mr. Lehnsherr with me to pick up the dragon?"

"Come on in," came the call.

Erik wasn't sure what to expect in there, but it wasn't anything like what he found. The place was cozy and warm, its inhabitant sitting in his large, comfy chair, the day's show over and most of the screens blank and dark. The dragon was more or less asleep, laying on the floor with its head in Thor's lap, humming and… well, Erik figured that might be snoring he was hearing. Thor wasn't just tall and broad - he seemed to have a certain aura around him that made him feel even bigger than life itself. Yet, while he was what Erik would consider the perfect opponent, a hero in all ways physical, he couldn't help but like the way Thor greeted him.

"Come on in, sit down if you're not in a hurry to leave - your friend sort of fell asleep on me," he said.

Erik stared, slightly stunned, at the image.

Alex pointed a chair out for him before leaving the booth.

Erik felt a little out of sorts. He had intended to get the dragon and bring it… somewhere. He wasn't entirely sure what to do with it, but he felt he had a certain duty to make sure it was at least taken care off and treated as it should be; as a powerful, mythological beast, not as a dangerous pest to be used and abused and exterminated at will.

He hadn't even checked to see if the accomodations the studio was paying for would allow him to keep the dragon until the show was finally over. He still waited for the other shoe to drop. Surely, he couldn't keep racking in enough points to actually make it through the episodes, and even enough points to make him a semi-serious contender for the winning position.

"I'm glad you spoke up about the use of dragons for the show," Thor said. "I brought it up on the previous seasons, but all the higher-ups seem to think I'm just brought up differently, and that we're more used to dragons and beasts in general up north. They're not wrong," he said with a sudden grin.

Erik felt slightly blinded by that wide grin, one that seemed so heartfelt. He knew of Thor's people and that there was a reason why the big, blonde Asgardian wasn't living the high life with his royal family back home, everyone who ever caught a whiff of the tabloids did. But no one seemed to know the true story behind it.

He watched in silence as Thor rubbed the hard ridge above one closed dragon eye, making the dragon huff out a noise that could only be described as a purr.

"I've always been partial to dragons," Thor said, a wistful look on his face. "My brother used to take on the guise of a dragon and lure me in - he's always known my weaknesses and tends to exploit them." There was no resentment in the words, merely a softness to his face. "Then, when I was busy petting and cuddling the creature, he'd turn back into himself and stab me."

Erik wondered if he was getting this right, because it sounded as if it had been something happening more than once.

"I'm sorry, here I am, lost in the fog of the past," Thor said, suddenly focusing far too hard on Erik. "So, Erik, may I call you Erik?" He didn't even pause to let Erik nod, but carried on. "Has Charles asked you out yet? I mean, catching that moment just before on the stage, that was amazing, but maybe not what you would have wanted the entire country to witness."

Erik was caught between asking 'what moment?' and 'asked out?' and just generally 'whaaa?'.

Nothing came out of his mouth when he opened it, and with a deep sigh, he sank fully back in his seat.

"Ah," Thor said, terribly perceptive. "I see. My condolences. Yes, that was not meant for the greater public, Erik, but it happened and I think you will have to face it head on."

Erik didn't even want to ask what it was he was talking about. He most assuredly didn't want to know.

* * *

"Well done, Charles," Emma said, having called him into the office a couple of hours before they were to start the third episode.

Charles shook his head and sighed, dropping into the chair on the other side of Emma's desk. "I don't know what you're congratulating me on, Emma, because I lost control of all this on the first night."

"Oh, I would have thought the second night, but maybe it's good?" Emma said, sugary sweet.

Charles lifted his head, staring at her aghast. "What?"

"Charles, you're a lovely man, but you've lived and breathed other people's happily ever after for years now."

He shook his head. "No, that's not how it is, Emma. But if Lehnsherr wins, and I'm getting to the point where I daren't even make estimates, because apparently the public has decided that he's the one this year. _If_ he wins, I have to find the prize for him - and if I fail, people _and_ Lehnsherr are going to wonder if I was too biased to do my job!"

"Charles," Emma said quietly, "have you seen the numbers for the past two episodes? If we only look at the ones viewing it live, they went up by 300% from the first episode to the second. And the numbers and reviews online… Charles."

"Emma, it's a fad - has everyone lost their minds, have they forgotten who he is?" Charles asked, feeling like he was trying to convince himself as much as Emma.

Emma laughed out loud. "Charles, have you forgotten who I used to be?"

"You were an ambiguous villain," Charles hedged.

This time it took a while for Emma to stop laughing. "Would you have said that before I turned to the good side? Was I not the Scourge of the North? Emma Frost, the Ice Queen, ruling her country with an icy fist."

Charles looked at her, then shrugged. She wasn't wrong. Emma had tired of being the greater evil, and possibly the cold as well, and had eventually turned to their side. But Magneto? The man who railed and monologued if he could get away with it?

It wasn't to say that his speech about how to treat dragons hadn't hit a sore spot. And when the journalists had interviewed him the very next day, he had spent a good ten minutes telling everyone how they should see the loyalty and love in the monstrous instead of the monsters.

And then he'd gone off, saying that monster was not exactly a nice way to describe anyone, no matter what they looked like.

Charles wished he could say he had switched off the interview, but quite frankly, he'd watched it again and again, constantly losing himself in the fire and passion of Erik's voice. Even without being physically in the same room where he could catch stray thoughts and emotions, he could not claim that Erik had left him unmoved.

"Charles, just ignore for a moment who Lehnsherr is, or has been in the past," Emma suggested. "Perhaps if you do this, you can get through this season and actually enjoy yourself and our success?"

"Perhaps you are right," Charles finally said. "I can't say how this is all going to end, but we can't ignore the choice of the public."

"And you have to admit anything that can turn Sebastian, the old stick in the mud, that cranky, has to be worth it," Emma said with a wink.

"Please don't mention Shaw," Charles begged. "We'll be lucky if he doesn't sue the production company after last time - I mean, the dragon is a wild beast, as nice and subdued as it seemed to be with Mr. Lehnsherr on the stage." 

It hadn't even been during the show, but when Erik had left after picking up the dragon from Thor's booth. Charles knew that Shaw had muttered something to Erik in passing, that had apparently set off the dragon's mean streak.

"It could have burned down the whole studio," Emma agreed, "but it didn't."

"No, it just singed off Shaw's eyebrows and sideburns," Charles said, hiding his face in his hands.

* * *

Thor's voice boomed out over the studio as the third installment began.

"Ladies, beasts, gentlebeings, welcome back to the evening's episode, the third round of our quest for the elusive beast that is Happily Ever After."

The light lit up the stage and Charles waved at the audience which went wild. Raven rested her hand on his as they waited for the audience to quiet enough to get a word in.

Charles had to ignore one or two signs that alluded to him and Lehnsherr. Raven, obviously having caught sight of them as well, leaned against him and pushed _'Oh, see there, Charles, the public thinks you should be dating Lehnsherr as well.'_

Against his better knowledge, Charles asked _'As well?_

_'Yeah, I think you make a terribly adorable couple,'_ she replied, before she greeted their audience.

"Hello everyone, and as Thor just said, welcome to the night's challenge for our contestants." She turned to Charles, who forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

"We are down to three contestants," Charles said feeling the suspense of the audience. "We have the lovely Kitty, please give her a warm welcome!"

The audience did just that, the air full of energy as Kitty entered the stage. She was dressed in a tight outfit, vambraces, two knives strapped to either thigh.

"And Ororo - our goddess of the storm," Raven called, waiting for Ororo to harvest her fair share of the audience's adoration. She was once again dressed in black, stylized lightning lining the top as well as her boots, a whip rolled up at her hip, a mace in her hand. She looked absolutely stunning.

"And last, but not least," Charles said, keeping his voice as even as he possibly could. "Mr. Lehnsherr, the Master of Magnetism."

Charles hated that Raven knew his buttons, because Erik was dressed in a tight sleeveless black shirt that showed off his narrow frame, but also displayed his muscles and wiry built. And criminally tight trouser, giving the viewers more than fodder enough to imagine his… size.

And the audience was appreciative - the applause was insane.

_I'm dead,_ Charles thought to himself. He could not afford to linger in anyway, because the viewers had already proven that all they needed was them within a few feet of each other to come up with their wildly outlandish theories.

"Here tonight," Raven said, her voice hushed once the audience was done showing just how much they liked Erik. "Tonight," she repeated, like she was conveying a secret, "we're going to bring in a challenge we haven't had before. Charles?"

"We've all had nightmares, I'm sure," Charles said taking her hand as she held it out to him. "There are people who specialize in battling sleep demons for a fee - those people are professionals, but we want to see if our contestants might be capable of dealing with someone else's night time demons."

The contestants were lead back out backstage and the stage went dark, save for where Charles and Raven were standing off to the side. "Do you think our contestants shall do well, Raven?" Charles asked conversationally, allowing the stage staff to shift the right part of the stage into view.

"Oh, I'm sure they will do perfectly well," Raven said, sugary. "Although, when you think about it, we never deal as well with our demons as we might want to think." 

"So perhaps our contestants will have more luck with someone else's?" Charles suggested.

"We’ll just have to wait and see," Raven said theatrically before turning to the dark stage. "Please welcome Miss Ororo, known as Storm, as she takes on her challenge." 

The dark stage seemed to wobble for a moment, then a distorted scene of a young man sleeping in a bed off to the side came into view, something slithered along the stage, and under the bed.

Charles took a deep breath. He couldn't feel the creature, but he could feel everyone's reaction in the audience. He'd never liked dealing with these creatures - he couldn't feel them, they were like fog to him - cold, clammy and intangible.

Storm, taking her whip into use, lashed out at the thing, dragging ...something out from under the bed. It shifted like oil and hissed at her. For a moment, she may have let her guard down, because while it had been shrinking, it suddenly swelled, howling and throwing itself at her. She reacted instinctively and a lightning bolt came out of nowhere, hitting the thing. It just didn't have the expected effect. The lightning bounced back and hit her right in the chest, throwing her off to the side of the stage.

The wranglers were quick to go in and stop the demon, and Charles could relay to the audience a few moments later, that Storm was doing perfectly well, if a little stunned.

"Please welcome our second contestant," Raven called out. "Please, Miss Kitty - show us how it is done."

Kitty managed much better - even if she looked a little shaken when she came down off the stage. She had managed to trap it long enough halfway into the floor and had told it to never darken this child's door again.

"With two contestants through, it is time for our last participants to show us what he can do." Charles waited for the hooting and applause from the audience to die down. "Mr. Lehnsherr, please show us how you would deal with this. And best of luck."

Erik waited at the side of the stage, watching the scene set itself. A bed with a small girl in it, obviously in the claws of a nightmare. The air shimmered and the girl's dream self stood on the stage. The ground around her rumbled and bubbled.

Rather than run right in, Erik walked along the side of the bubbling floor. "Hello?" he called to her, not too loudly as to startle her.

"You shouldn't be here," the girl said seriously.

"Neither should this," Erik said, pointing at the floor where something was rising up and out of the goo.

"It comes every night," she said, finally looking up at him, eyes tired and sunken.

"Won't leave you alone, huh?" Erik said. He had yet to draw his weapon, still circling the bubbling floor.

She shook her head.

"Do you think you could help me?" Erik asked her, stopping just short of touching the black goo.

"I can try?" she offered. She looked a little wary.

"What's your name?" 

"Annabelle," she replied.

"That's a pretty name, Annabelle," he said. "I'm Erik. And I need you to look at this thing that stalks your dreams and tell it to go away."

"I can't do that!" she said, losing her tight focus on the goo which blended in with the floor again.

"Have you tried?" he asked.

"No?"

"So what's the harm in trying?" Erik asked.

"I guess?" the girl replied, looking up at him, a little confused.

"If I handle this for you, what will you do the next time?" Erik asked. "As much as I would like to offer my protection, what good will it do next week, next month?"

"I don't know what to do," she admitted, taking a step back when the goo spattered a little more.

"Close your eyes," Erik suggested. "Close your eyes and imagine it's water."

She eyed him for a moment like he was full of it, but nevertheless did as he told her.

Charles held his breath, trying not to get his hopes up. As much as they hadn't expected anyone to try anything but fighting, he had to admit that Erik's way had worked beautifully the last time, the dragon under Thor's desk in the booth a testament to this.

Annabelle carefully opened her eyes, and the goo did turn to water, though it was still behaving as before.

"Turn the lights up a bit," Erik suggested. "This is your mind, your dream, if anyone can control it and beat it - permanently - it's you."

She looked at him for a long time, then nodded slowly.

The goo-turned-water raised itself up, a menacing column with burning eyes at the top.

"You aren't in charge," she told it, her voice wobbling a little.

Charles tried to breathe evenly. This could go badly, and he caught the eye of one of the pro dream slayers they had on staff, who looked slightly murderous. He shook his head imperceptibly. He believed that Erik wouldn't let the girl come to any harm, but he wanted to see where this was leading.

"This is _my_ dream," she continued, a little more sure. "I am not some small girl you can prey on."

"Concentrate on what _you_ want," Erik said, barely loud enough for the microphones to pick it up.

Annabelle reached out towards the column of water, and once again Charles barely dared breathe. He halfway expected the water to fall apart or worse, attack her, but instead it solidified into a shimmering sea serpent. The scales reflected the lights off stage and suddenly the whole scene was less gloomy, glittering rainbow colours bouncing off the scales of the serpent as it slithered down and around the girl.

Everyone was startled by the moment and Charles felt they all wanted to step forward to protect the girl - except Erik- and before anyone could do anything, the girl laughed, her dream self so different now as she scratched the serpent on top of the head and down between its eyes.

The sound coming off the creature was… very different from what Charles had expected. It wasn't a purr, more a deep rumble that seemed to start at its head and end at the tip of its shimmering tail.

Erik stepped aside, the scene splintering into little, purple leaves fluttering around the stage as the girl yawned and sat up in her bed, the dream broken. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the audience, smiling shyly before turning her attention to Erik and bouncing out of bed, making a beeline for him.

Charles wasn't entirely sure what to expect but having a small girl hugging the waist of the tall and imposing Master of Magnetism, had not been high on that list a few hours ago.

The audience went crazy and Charles couldn't help but smile. The judges could give whatever they wanted in points, but with that cheer there was no way the audience and viewers would give anything less than top marks.

"Careful, Charles, your bias is showing," Raven whispered off mic, her grin catchingly wide.

Charles bit his lower lip and forced his face back into the right expression just as the lights went up on the stage.

"Well, Mr. Lehnsherr, I believe you have once again found a different way out of your challenge," he said, walking up to the two of them.

The girl eyed him curiously, but Erik cocked his head to the side, looked a little distant for a moment, then shrugged. "I've had my fair share of nightmares, especially when I was younger-" he trailed off and very much didn't look in the direction of the judges’ table.

Charles felt the moment's confusion, then a fraction of a memory hit him. Shaw and Erik had a past, even if no one knew what it had been all about. He wondered if it might explain his newly acquired pet dragon attacking Shaw.

Though maybe that had just been bad karma.

"Apparently you're a natural," Charles said, trying not to stand too close to the other man. If left to his own devices, it seemed that Charles gravitated towards him.

"It took-" Lehnsherr began, then cleared his throat and looked up, meeting Charles's gaze. "I had enough nightmares to test any ideas on," he replied, with a quirk of the lips.

The audience was eating it up, there was no doubt about it, and Charles wanted nothing more than to dig - not for them, but because there was so much more to Erik's words than just… a vague explanation as to how he'd come up with his ideas.

"Well, one way or another, Mr. Lehnsherr, it seems that you have won the favour of the audience here." He gestured to the judges' table. "Let's see if you have convinced the judges."

Annabelle looked up at Erik, and he nodded to her and a moment later, her hand slipped into Charles'. He was a little surprised, but then he met her smile, before leading her backstage where Raven took her hand and then hugged her.

"Well done," Charles whispered to her. This earned him a wide smile.

Back on the stage, Moira was congratulating Erik. "Ten points from me, Mr. Lehnsherr. In a world where we seem to fight before thinking, you seem to think first."

The audience applauded her on this as did Tony, while Shaw looked like a thunderstorm.

"Where were you when I was a kid?" Tony asked, laughing. "I could have used that attitude from the therapists, rather than dealing with the root of the problem like you just did." He turned to the audience. "Am I right, or am I right? Of course I'm right and I'm giving you ten points as well."

Again the audience agreed loudly with him.

Charles took a deep breath and waited for Shaw to chime in, not expecting anything positive from him. He really didn't like Erik, and while the judges weren't allowed to let anything but the performances colour their points, it was obvious by now that Shaw blatantly ignored that rule.

"So, you let a little girl fight the fight for you, Lehnsherr. Why am I not surprised?" He leaned back in his seat. "You always were a cowa-" That was as far as he made it before, out of nowhere, gallons of water poured down on top of him.

It barely touched Tony who was seated next to him, but Shaw was drenched.

Charles was so glad that Thor and Alex were quick, because the light went out on the judges, Tony halfway off his chair laughing at Shaw, and Moira looking shocked, but more than a little delighted as well.

"Everyone, please get ready in your seats, in your homes, to cast your votes - and we'll be back in 10 minutes with the results," Thor's pleasant voice rang through the speakers.

Ever the professional, Charles thought to himself. Because there was no way that when the microphone was off the man would be laughing himself sick over this. It was very much Thor's sense of humour. Not that he was behind the water - no, Charles was sure that had been Annabelle's doing. He'd felt the surge of anger from her just a moment before the water had hit Shaw. Maybe the conquered demon of her nightmares was now a willing tool to her, or she had skills he hadn't been aware of. One way or another, the mixture of surprise and satisfaction he was getting from her, told him all he felt he needed to know. Taking offense to Shaw's words was perfectly normal at this stage. The man always had been and always would be, an arse.

* * *

Erik fell back in his seat and closed his eyes, startling a little when the dragon plopped down beside his chair and put its head in his lap, demanding to be scratched. He did as requested and kept his eyes closed. The night's episode had been… interesting, in so many ways.

The audience and viewers still didn't seem to relent in their support of him and he'd ended up with the highest number of points. Again.

He hit the sweet spot of his new pet just right and an ungodly purr escaped it.

Erik wondered why life in general couldn't be as easy as with this beast. Then again, he knew perfectly well that he had only himself to blame for this. He was the one who had signed up for the show in the first place.

It didn't change the fact that he felt a little raw from the night's episode. While he'd kept up his usual front, on the inside he'd felt all the bad memories from his own nightmares coming back to haunt him. The horrible memories from losing his parents, two bad years being Shaw's apprentice.

He had enough material for some pretty enormous dream demons to besiege him through his younger years. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Charles about the experience he'd had with them. For all that he considered himself a villain and still occasionally dreamed of world domination, he was also older and more tempered now. He might be villainous, but he would never wish anyone to have to deal with the kind of demons he had had to through his younger years.

And he couldn't quite shake the memory of how Charles had looked at him when he'd spoken of the demons. Like Erik was a good man, like he felt sympathy and empathy for him. It had been the kind of look that had ignited something painful in Erik's chest, but something he wouldn't have wanted to be without. Something he lacked the words to express or even explain to himself.

"I think I may be way deeper in this thing than I'd first expected," Erik told the dragon. "I feel like a bit of an idiot, but I don't know how to get out of it now."

Or even if he truly wanted to get out.

* * *

"Have you seen that the pro nightmare slayers are complaining?" Raven asked, throwing herself into the chair next to Charles', holding up a newspaper that Charles was sure he didn't want to read the headlines of.

He leaned back in the seat behind his desk in the office. He had hoped to be able to hide from her a little longer.

"I thought they might," Charles replied, quickly swiping away from the rather outlandish fanfic he had been reading. So sue him, he'd been curious. However, now he wasn't entirely sure he could meet Erik's eyes ever again. Not without imagining… that.

"According to them, anyone trying to deal with their own nightmare demons could end up dying." Raven rolled the newspaper up she had been waving at him.

"Truth be told, we dealt with nightmare demons before there was such a thing as nightmare demon slayers," Charles argued, turning his attention entirely on her.

"Ooh, taking Lehnsherr's side now, I see," she said with a saucy wink.

"He does have a point," Charles defended himself. "With the dragon as well."

Raven leaned back in her seat and nodded. "Yeah, he did, didn't he? And it follows him everywhere it can."

Charles laughed out loud. Yes, it did indeed. And if Charles was right, the man spoiled it rotten when he thought no one was looking. Strike that, he didn't seem to care if anyone was looking.

And because the dragon couldn't be on stage when they were, it had taken to sleeping under Thor's desk, up in the narrator's booth. He didn't mind - said it kept his feet nice and warm. And for some odd reason, that Charles couldn't quite figure out, Erik didn't seem to mind Thor at all - hence neither did the dragon.

Nevermind that it was also overly fond of Charles, and tended to roll onto it's back to get belly scratches whenever he ran into it… well, as long as he was fast, at least it didn't land _on_ his feet. The worst that happened when the creature got a bit excited was it sometimes chased its own tail, which in turn lead to a bit of property damage - but the dragon was happy, who was he to spoil it?

"Don't think I haven't noticed that the dragon likes you too," Raven said, looking at him from under her lashes. "Dare I say, it likes you because Lehnsherr is head over heels for you."

Charles scoffed. "Don't be daft, woman."

"Come on, Charles, look at some of the scenes from the previous episode," Raven argued. "He has it bad for you."

"He seems a very private and shy personality, Raven, don't mistake that for it when he actually engages me in conversation."

Raven was quiet and Charles closed his eyes. Had he just? Yeah. First rule of interaction with Raven, never, ever become defensive.

"Oh my gosh!" she all but squealed. "You fancy him too, don't you?!"

"Raven, I do not fancy him, no matter what you and half of the online communities may seem to think." Charles drew a deep breath and refused to meet her gaze.

"Charles, really?"

Charles was taken so much by surprise by the heartfelt question in her voice that he turned his head and opened his eyes.

"Oh, Charles, did it finally get you?" Raven's tone of voice was oddly quiet, where she would normally be very energetic and loud. Now she was sitting in her seat, hands in her lap, watching Charles with a softness he wasn't used to from her.

Charles opened his mouth to argue, but… he couldn't find the words.

Raven apparently decided that he didn't need to. She slid out from her seat and all but climbed into his, curling around him, like they'd done as children. "I want to say I'm happy for you, but Charles, Erik Lehnsherr? You don't want an uncomplicated life, do you?"

"It's not like I get a say in it, is it?" Charles asked her. He knew as well as she did how these things worked. Such things had one of two outcomes, and he didn't dare think about the bad one.

Raven made a face. "Well, I just realized, speaking of making things harder on yourself, no pun intended, you have to find him his happily ever after when he wins."

"There's still a chance he could lose to Kitty," Charles hedged.

Raven threw her head back and laughed. "No, there really isn't Charles, unless he concedes - and I think he's too stubborn for that."

Charles was inclined to agree with her.

* * *

"Mr. Lehnsherr, Miss Pryde, thank you for coming in before the show tonight," Charles said to the two contestants. He had to have this conversation with the both of them. No matter what Raven said, there was still a chance for Kitty to catch up and for Erik to come second. Which meant speaking with the both of them.

“Miss Pryde, my office please," he said, turning to Erik. "If you don't mind waiting, Mr. Lehnsherr?"

Erik looked up from where he was scratching the dragon behind the ear. Charles could feel a touch of contentment from him, that was all that was getting through. "Of course," Lehnsherr replied. "Ladies first."

Miss Pryde blushed lightly and curtsied before entering Charles' office.

Gesturing to one of the two armchairs he kept in the office, Charles offered her a cup of tea and they both sat down to get things planned. In case she won.

"I understand why you have to do this," Kitty said quietly, "but surely Mr. Lehnsherr will win."

"Ah, but Kitty - you know fairytales as well as I do. Nothing is ever sure until the end is written," Charles corrected her.

She cocked her head to the side, her brown eyes, windows of the soul, displaying just how simple she was not. "Are you afraid what Mr. Lehnsherr's happily ever after might entail?" she asked shrewdly.

"We're not here to discuss Mr. Lehnsherr's wishes, my dear Miss Pryde," Charles said, clearing his throat. That conversation he would be having far too soon anyway.

"Sorry, Mister Xavier," she replied, much the same way Raven would when she was most definitely not sorry.

"So tell me, Kitty, what would the perfect ending be for you?" Charles asked. "If you were to win."

Kitty looked down at her hands, then shrugged. "Can I tell you something Mr. Xavier?"

Charles cocked his head to the side. "Please. Whatever you tell me in here will go no further than that door."

She nodded. "Well, I know I should have thought about this before entering," she said. "I know the prize is a happily ever after - you know, the person of your heart, living happily ever after, together."

Charles nodded to let her go on.

"But what if a happily ever after isn't a couples thing?"

"What are you asking?" Charles asked her, a little confused.

"I haven't met anyone that makes my heart beat faster, or makes my palms sweaty. But I do have dreams." She paused for a moment. "I want to go out into the world, see everything, any creature I can find, travel far and wide, learn."

"Learn what?"

"Everything."

Charles stared at her. "So there is not one person that you wish to spend your life with?"

Kitty shrugged. "I guess I just haven't met that person yet - and maybe my lot in life is exploration - I just wasn't sure that I would ever be given the chance to do so."

Charles nodded, slowly. This was a season of firsts. Normally the contestants had a clear or semi clear idea of who they loved. But this season it seemed that Charles was left with the two finalists and neither of them were… the norm.

So either Kitty won, and he would have to find some way to get her on a quest. It wasn't impossible - he had connections. He might consider it anyway, even if she didn't win. The girl was wasted where she was. He could feel how caged in she felt. And she'd done well on the challenges. Not perfect, but she had proven she could take care of herself.

And Charles knew one or two people he would be making a call to when the show was over.

He patted Kitty on the hand and drew a deep breath. "Leave it to me, my dear. A happily ever after is, after all, my speciality."

Kitty laughed, a little short burst of mirth. "That is true, Mr. Xavier. I am looking forward to tonight's challenge."

Charles grinned. "So am I. Don't worry, one way or another, we'll figure something out." He got to his feet and offered her a hand up. Kissing her hand, he gestured at the door. "Would you be a darling and send in Mr. Lehnsherr on your way out?"

"Of course," she replied, leaving his office in a much better mood than she'd entered. 

Truth be told, this was what he lived for, this was why he loved bringing people their happily ever after. Happiness was like refined wine. The more you cared for it and let it sit, the better it would become.

Now for his biggest challenge yet. If he were to find a happily ever after for this man, what would it be? If it wasn't someone, would it be something? Like Kitty wanted adventure, chafing at her bonds, what would Erik want? World domination? Now, Charles was skilled, but he wasn't _that_ good. So all in all, he didn't know what to give Erik if… when he won.

_Liar, you know perfectly well what to give him. You know who he wants. Or maybe it's just wishful thinking._ Charles ignored his inner voice.

Erik knocked on the door and Charles asked him to enter.

"Mr. Lehnsherr, Erik, please sit," Charles said, still standing to allow his guest to sit first.

"Thank you," Erik replied and took his seat, looking a little ill at ease. The dragon had followed him in and had come over to bump its nose against Charles' shoulder in greeting before ambling back to drop onto the floor at the side of Erik's chair.

"Erik, you know why I have asked you and miss Pryde to meet me here today, am I correct?" Charles asked.

"Yes, you want to pick our minds in order to find the right prize for us," Lehnsherr answered. "For whichever one of us wins."

"I have to admit I did not expect to see you come this far, but, I also have to admit that I am quite happy you did." Charles might as well give him that much. Because it was the truth. He'd had to admit this to himself at some point as well. Erik Lehnsherr was not only a breath of fresh air for their stale show, he was a man deserving a happily ever after. "And I do not enter your mind, Erik - there are rules - but I do try to figure out your right prize through conversation, so please, the more frank and whole hearted you are in this conversation, the closer I can get to finding the perfect prize for you, should you win."

Whatever that may entail for a man like him.

"Now, is there a special someone you would like for me to invite for the final show," Charles fished, ever professional, because he may, as Raven had so rudely put it, fancied Erik, but he had a job to do. And this involved finding the perfect person for _him_. "Someone you would like to live with, have children with, perhaps grow old."

Erik shrugged. "Not really."

"Surely you had something in mind when you signed up," Charles tried.

"I never thought I'd get this far," Erik said, looking up, finally meeting his eyes.

"Then why sign up?" Charles asked curiously. This was something that had interested him from the start. What made someone who had been clearly marked as a villain in fairytale land sign up for a program like theirs?

Erik looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, then reached down to pet the dragon again. "I didn't have a plan for anything beyond trying to get into the show."

"But surely there must be something that makes you happy," Charles tried again.

Erik stiffened in his seat. "I haven't had much happiness in my life, as a child, or as an adult. But I…"

"Yes?"

"I like this, having normal conversations with people. Maybe all I want is for people to understand me a little better and maybe engage with me more often."

Charles kept a tight rein on his gift. He wanted nothing more than to dig, because there was something there that Erik wasn't sharing with him, something he wasn't sure about sharing with Charles.

Over the next half hour, Charles tried to drag information out of Erik, but very little seemed to be forthcoming. Of course this made his job much harder. But he was known to be a miracle worker and there was no way he was going to fail on this task.

"Well, I'll see if I can come up with something that might please you, Mr. Lehnsherr, should you win." 

Charles stood and gave him the hand as the other man got to his feet as well. The touch of skin was almost shockingly intimate, and Charles was drawn into Erik's mind - the top of the iceberg, so to say. There was nothing intensely private there, but he could tell that Erik had enjoyed their talk, even if it had been like pulling teeth. Maybe that was what he liked? Being dragged out of his shell?

* * *

Charles was less assured when the final night came around. They had an elaborate show set up. It was going to be magnificent. The challenge was a two parter - two small connected challenges.

"Ready?" Raven asked him, looking and feeling as jittery as Charles was.

"No?" Charles said. "But we'll be alright. I just don't have a prize for Lehnsherr if he wins."

"You've come up with it on the fly before," Raven muttered before they made their way onto the stage.

Never like this, Charles thought to himself. It had never been this hard. While Erik might not expect the world, the audience sure would. And maybe he should? Maybe he should offer Erik a show of his own? Had the man not said that he wanted to be understood, that he wanted people to get what he meant? Sure, the show would have to be vetted… yes, a safe way out. A safe prize to offer. 

Thor's booming voice opened the intro as always and the audience went wild as he and Raven were lit by the spotlight.

Time to put on a hell of a show.

* * *

Erik stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was waiting in his dressing room for the final episode of the show. The outfit that Miss Raven had brought out for him… well, he could find no fault in it. It was perhaps a little more subdued in colour than what he'd normally wear, but there was no doubt about the fact the it fit him perfectly and that it flattered his figure in all the right ways.

"I should probably have been more upfront, huh?" he asked the dragon who was curled up on the couch. Well, halfway on the couch, halfway on the floor, as it was far too big for the couch. Not that Erik was going to shoo it off. He was far too jittery to need the comfortable seat.

The dragon raised its head and made an inquiring sound.

"If I'd been more straightforward when Charles asked, maybe I could have asked for the only prize I really wanted to take away from this show," Erik explained to it. "Maybe all I want is a single date with him? A nice dinner out. I know it's not happily ever after, but it would be enough for me."

The dragon made a half-snorted noise and Erik glared at it. "It _would_ be enough," he defended himself. Even if Charles didn't return Erik's… feelings - and oh, how he struggled to put them into words himself - like a flimsy light in the distance, like a will-o'-the-wisp, there and luring him down an unknown path, yet intangible.

As it were, _if_ he won, he would take whatever prize he could get - and maybe he would have spine enough to do something about those cursed feelings in his chest that would not quiet whenever he thought about Charles.

* * *

"Tonight's show is a two parter," Charles told the audience.

"First, the last two finalists must show the audience and the judges that they are capable of thinking on the fly - and second, they have to prove they are capable of at least a little rhythm," Raven carried on.

"The two contestants left won't be able to see each other's performances in the first half of the challenge," Charles took over.

"We do not want them to get ideas off each other." Raven held out her hand and Charles took it and she continued. "Each contestant must prove that they are capable of keeping up small talk, conversation, some flirting."

At the center of the stage, a small table with a white and red checkered cloth covering it, stood with a single lit candle on it and a glass of wine on either side, as well as two chairs.

Kitty came in, taking her place, as one of the show's staff came out and took the seat opposite her. Kitty seemed a little confused, as she hadn't been told what was expected, but she managed fairly well.

Charles wondered how Erik would fare. The times they had spoken, he'd found him an interesting enough conversationalist, but one thing was one on one with no audience, it was a whole other kettle of fish to do it this way.

Kitty landed herself a fair number of points from the judges and Charles gave her a warm smile as Raven lead her past him on the way off stage. She had managed the right balance between engaging and flirting with her 'date'.

"Erik," Charles greeted, the light spots focusing on the opposite side of the stage.

And hot damn it, but Raven had outdone herself. She had decked Erik out in a black suit with purple lapels and a small handkerchief in the pocket of the same colour. He looked absolutely stunning.

Charles felt a little self-conscious as he led Lehnsherr over to one side of the table. He watched Erik display a level of tension he hadn't seen before. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Erik said stiffly, then turned his attention to Charles, the tension lessening somewhat as he focused on him. "It's just that with the other challenges we've had an idea of what to expect, here…"

Charles nodded. "Don't worry, you simply have to prove that you can adapt to the situation and I don't see any reason why you shouldn't be able to."

Erik nodded, standing closer than, strictly speaking, he had to, but Charles had trouble stepping away as well. Charles reached out and patted his arm, feeling the strong muscles underneath. "Don't worry, just be as charming as you always are."

If anything, that comment made Erik look even more tense than before. He eyed the seat as if it was going to attack him, but finally sat down. Charles exited the stage by passing the table, squeezing Erik's shoulder for a moment.

As he met Raven behind the stage, he realized his mistake, her eyes bright and her smile wide. "Did you mean to give everyone more fodder for their crazy shipping of the two of you?"

"Shipping?" Charles asked, warily.

"Short for relationship, in this case, the relationship the two of you obviously have going." Raven wagged her finger at him.

"Don't be silly," Charles replied, trying to ignore her amusement.

He was saved from having to have this discussion with her as the stage lit up, and a stunning woman crossed the stage to take the seat across from Erik. Charles most assuredly did not feel a pang of anything in his chest.

It was a train wreck. Erik seemed to be off balance the whole session through and the judges gave him the lowest score so far. Charles doubted even the audience vote would change anything there. Quite frankly it was painful to watch - and Charles wondered if they should have given the contestants an idea of what they were supposed to be doing. To him, and Raven and Emma, it might make sense to sit down, a table for two, intimate surroundings (or as intimate as it could be on a stage in front of millions of viewers) and to then converse and… flirt.

As they waited for the second round to be set up, Charles couldn't help but ask him what had gone wrong out there. It wasn't a question aired for the audience. Charles genuinely wanted to know. Erik had done so well so far, but tonight… he was apparently completely off his game.

"I still don't think I know what I was supposed to do out there," Erik defended himself, looking tired and annoyed, his voice nowhere near as vibrant as Charles had become used to hearing.

"Have a conversation, flirt, small talk." Charles wondered if perhaps that wasn't part of the man's repertoire - although he'd found their conversations quite nice so far.

"Oh," Erik said, looking mildly consternated. "I see."

"I'm sorry," Charles said, catching Raven waving wildly at him from the edge of the stage. "We have to get ready for the second setting. Just try to relax," Charles said lamely.

Erik looked less than convinced.

* * *

Erik felt like an absolute idiot. He'd failed completely to grasp the situation. He'd spent the whole session trying to ascertain what the task was, expecting anything but what it had been. And if anything, it had shown everyone that he did not master the act of dating, no matter how much he wished to show Charles that he would be dating material, if he could only work up the nerve to ask.

No, there was no way that he would get anything from this round, and quite frankly he felt so much off balance that he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to deal with the second half, which they still didn't know what would be. It wasn't as if the tasks in the previous episodes had been shared with them before they went on stage, but at least they had been more along things Erik could relate to and handle.

Date conversations, especially with someone he didn't know anything about and most assuredly wasn't attracted to definitely wasn't on the list of things Erik could prove himself in.

All he could hope for now would be that the second half wouldn't end up being as bad or even worse than the first. Not that it seemed possible at that very moment.

How wrong he would be, Erik had no clue.

* * *

"And for the season's final challenge," Raven called out, "My darling friend Charles has decided to stand down - because he has, as he puts it himself, two left feet."

Charles laughed. "She's not wrong," he admitted, shooting her a broad grin. "But yes, for this, I believe we shall need a professional - and that means the one and only Peter Quill."

The audience went wild as the man sauntered onto the stage.

"Hello Fairytale Land," Quill called out. "Are you ready to get jiggy on the dance floor?"

Again, the audience reacted with cheer.

"Bring me the two contestants and their dance partners." 

Charles was hard pushed to find a way to describe the look of absolute horror on Erik's face. The woman they had paired him with for the first half of the show, seemed unimpressed, but Charles was drawn right into the red hot panic he was getting off Erik.

The moment the music started playing, the whole place went crazy. And not in the fun way. At least not to Charles. Apparently faced with utter defeat and panic, Erik reacted rather unpredictable.

In this case, unpredictable meant, instead of taking his partner's hand and following Kitty and her partner onto the floor, he grabbed Charles and dragged him along.

It shouldn't have worked. The music was a contemporary pop tune, but slow enough that the old school waltz and ballroom routine worked insanely well. And this was Charles admitting it, who couldn't dance to save his life.

However, whenever he'd tried to learn he'd been trained in the man's role, or at least in that of the taller partner, which had never quite worked for him. Erik, being taller than him and Charles having been surprised and thus not on his toes, found himself swept around the dance floor, unable to take his eyes off Erik's.

_'Erik, what on earth,'_ Charles tried to project. He got a reply, jumbled at first, full of emotion, but finally the words began coming through.

_'I'm so, so sorry, I panicked,'_ Erik tried to apologize.

_'As unorthodox as this is,'_ Charles admitted, _'Why would you be panicking so much over having a dance challenge?'_

_'I've never learned anything but old fashioned dancing,'_ Erik admitted and Charles caught the stray thought that it was what his mother had taught him. He wanted to ask then why the panic, because it was working fine, wasn't it?

_'While I occasionally find women attractive, I do prefer men - so I'm not as in tune with a woman's cues,'_ Erik admitted, looking a little sheepish.

Well, it did explain a few things.

Charles, caught up in the moment and completely having forgotten the audience, marvelled at how easy dancing was when he let the right partner lead. Because it had never been like this for him.

Before Charles could ask him anything else, the dance was over and it took a moment for him to find his focus again. Thankfully Raven was there to take over, praising that Erik had once again been creative.

Like he'd done it on purpose and not out of sheer, unadulterated panic.

Charles realized he was still holding onto Erik's arm, so he slowly let go, stepping back to let the two contestants step forward to the judges’ table.

Charles could barely focus on the judges doling out their points. He was far too lost in remembering what Erik's arms had felt like, holding him, guiding him through the dance.

"Snap out of it, Charles," Raven hissed at him. "We're waiting for the audience and viewer points to come in."

Charles shook himself a little, trying to find a focus. She was right, of course, but he couldn't help but drift back to the dance.

The judges weighed in and Charles wasn't surprised that Shaw once again rewarded their top contender with no more than two points. Two for the dance itself, because that hadn't been bad, but nothing more as he'd failed to do what he was supposed to; dance with the partner picked out for him.

How Charles got through the lead-up to the commercial break that would allow the audience and the viewers at home to chip in, he had no idea. He found himself standing backstage afterwards, speaking quietly with Kitty, constantly aware that somewhere off in the dark of the backstage area, was Erik.

"You did very well," Charles told her. "If you win, I do believe we have the right thing for you," he said. Not that she would. Not unless Erik got zero points and she all of them.

"It's okay, Mr. Xavier, I know Mr. Lehnsherr will win this one - and I hope he does." She patted Charles arm. "I've spoken with him on more than one occasion though this contest, and he is nowhere near the villain he is painted to be."

Charles let out a small laugh. "He isn't, is he?" He watched her silently for a moment. "But what about you, my dear?"

"I have spoken with Mr. Quill, and I have been hired to help him and his crew for the next three months - and where I want to get off the ship, I can. I am going to take my adventure. You… you should take what you want as well, Mr. Xavier."

Charles flushed a little. "This isn't about me, though, I am glad to hear you have taken this opportunity into your own hands. It can be quite rewarding."

"Mr. Xavier - I overheard you telling Miss Raven that you didn't know what to grant Mr. Lehnsherr," Kitty said, sounding plenty older than her years. "I think you know what to give him, I think you should be the architect of your own fortune." She stood on tip toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I think he'd like that."

In the end, Charles couldn't and he'd resorted to what they'd done in the early seasons. Asking the winner what he or she wanted live on camera.

The audience went wild when the numbers came in, and Charles wasn't surprised that Erik Lehnsherr had won. Although he'd had his doubts about the votes after the dance. Turned out that the audience and viewers had loved the old school dancing. Or, perhaps, his choice of dance partner, but Charles could only guess at this.

Raven took his arm as they stood on the stage, first speaking with Kitty, who repeated that she had found a way to make her own fortune, that she wouldn't have had without the show.

"Erik," Raven said, "congratulations on your win."

"Thank you," Erik said, his voice a little on the shaky side, his cheeks flushed. He looked, for all that he'd just one, like a fish out of water.

"Have you given it any thought as to what you might want for your prize, Erik?" Charles managed to ask, following the script, as he should. He was surprised that he managed to sound as professional as he did - because he'd expected his voice to tremble, his nerves coming out, as he worried deep down that Erik would suddenly pull some love of his life out of his sleeve and Charles would have to create his happily ever after around this person.

Erik shook his head. "Perhaps I have already gotten more than I thought I would," he admitted. Gesturing at the audience. "I never imagined winning the popular vote." He sounded more in control than he had a moment ago, a nice show of self control, if anyone asked Charles, because he could feel the nervousness coming off Erik in waves.

The answering roar from the audience was deafening.

"Surely, there must be something we can give you, a wish we can grant you," Raven pushed.

Charles wanted to intervene, because he could feel the thoughts in Raven's head congregating and spinning in the way they only ever did when they were about to spell certain doom to Charles.

"Well," Erik said, catching Charles eyes for a moment, then looking down. "I do have one request, if you will grant me it."

"Of course," Raven answered.

"No insult meant," Erik said, giving her a small smile. "My request is for Mr. Xavier to either grant or turn down."

Charles felt the pit of his stomach turn to ice. What was the man about to say or do?

"Would you grant me one, single, kiss?"

The venue went so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Time stood still for so long that Charles idly wondered if someone had cast a spell.

"If, if that's all you wish?" Charles blinked in confusion.

"I have perhaps not been entirely truthful in why I entered this competition," Erik admitted and the audience hushed. "I wasn't lying when I said I simply wanted to show that not all is black or white, that simply because I was seen as a villain, I don't have valid feelings. But I've also developed somewhat of a crush on you... Charles. Over the years - and when the opportunity came, I had to try for my happily ever after."

Charles stared at him, no two thoughts connecting in his head. But somehow he found the will to nod, catching Raven's wide eyed look out the corner of his eye. She was signalling Thor about something, but that was about all he had time to see, because a moment later, all he could focus on was Erik, standing in front of him, nervously waiting for his verdict.

"How…" Charles cleared his throat. "I was about to say how could I say no, but I think what I have to say is… It would be my pleasure."

And somewhere in his chest, in the vicinity of his heart, he felt something slot into place. Something that felt _so right_ that it carried its own feel of magic with it.

Forgotten was the audience, the cameras, Raven and the judges, and all Charles could focus on was the heat coming off Erik's body, as he came in close. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Charles lifted a hand and placed it on Erik's hip, while he found his hand with the other. And his hands were much warmer than Charles had expected. They were strong and firm, and the one on his neck as Erik reached up to touch him there, sent a jolt of electricity through his body.

Charles wasn't entirely sure that he'd ever felt this way with anyone before, but even that barely registered. It just wasn't important. The only thing that was, was Erik leaning in at the same time as Charles tipped his head to the side. It would have been perfect, if they hadn't bumped noses, but even that didn't deter them for a moment.

"Erik…" Charles said, finally dropping the last defense, breath hot against his lips. He hadn't allowed himself to think of the other man as an approachable person, rather thinking of him as a contestant on the show. Never as just Erik, who had joined to perhaps get closer to him.

There was a strange, prolonged moment, their lips barely a hairsbreadth apart, where Charles felt eternity stretch out in front of him, felt the deeper barriers that Erik had so carefully kept up since the first day on set, waver.

The kiss. Well, the kiss was exactly the stuff that fairytales were made of. Sugar and spice, dragons across the skies, defeating your inner demons and dancing with the fae in the moonlight.

For a few breathless moments, the kiss was chaste, their lips locked together, barely parted. Then Erik made a noise in the back of his throat and parted his lips and kissed Charles properly. As if that was what Charles' hind brain had been waiting for, he surged up into the kiss nearly making Erik stumble.

And the aforementioned walls didn't so much crumble as disintegrate. There was a bold nakedness to it all, a warmth and resilience in the other man's mind that drew Charles in. The kiss, while fantastic, was only one layer to it. It wasn't often that Charles allowed himself to let go with someone else like this, but he could not, if asked to, have found a way to pull back out of the freefall he was suddenly in inside Erik's mind.

Charles might have thought it was necessary, so few people were comfortable with someone else inside their heads, but he felt embraced as Erik's mental self wrapped itself around him, welcoming him in, even.

There was a loud wailing noise close to them, and reluctantly Charles managed to drag his own mind far enough back to return to reality, to the stage and realizing that he'd just had a revelation in front of thousands of viewers.

"Oh, goodness," he managed when they parted enough for him to draw in a deep breath. He felt as if he was a little oxygen deprived, his head spinning from what had just transpired.

"Yeah," Erik said, equally breathless, still holding him close, eyes searching Charles' face for something.

Charles realized he was looking for regret. "You'll find no regrets here, my friend," he said warmly. He looked up and realized what the noise was that had startled him back to the real world.

Ah.

"Raven," Charles said, turning his head and glaring at her. He packed it in with a mental push. The audience were all hooting and applauding.

"But Charles, look at it!" she all but squealed.

Charles did as she told him, looking up at the large board above their heads. Erik followed his direction.

"What is that?" Erik asked, eyeing it suspiciously and Charles realized that one word from him would make Erik take it down, hard and fast.

It made him feel… all warm and cuddly inside.

Not that Charles needed a knight in shining armour, or whatever it was Erik was to him now, but still. It was a nice thought.

"That is a metered function that calculates the strength of a kiss." Charles hesitated, because in reality, the measurement could spell more than one outcome. "We kind of blasted it out of the water with our kiss just now."

Erik frowned at him. "I thought that was a good thing?"

"It is," Charles said hurriedly. "But with such strength, there are two paths ahead of us - either we become the perfect happily ever after couple, or-" he hesitated.

"Or?" Erik prompted, stroking a finger absentmindedly down Charles' neck.

Charles shivered. Oh goodness, if that was what one little touch did to him… "There is always the risk that such a strong compatibility could send us to opposite corners and make us eternal arch-nemeses."

"Ah," Erik said. "I see that is a valid concern, Charles-"

"Only if we let it," Charles interrupted him. "Only if we let it, Erik." 

The audience were clapping steadily along.

"So, are you ready to accept your happily ever after, Erik?" Charles asked him, feeling warm from the core out.

"I may take a little work, I'm not overly familiar with the concept of happiness," Erik admitted.

"That's okay - will you let me help you find some?" Charles tilted his head again and kissed Erik on the lips. Just a quick peck. "I'm sure we can find the everafter kind if we try together."

Erik's grin was far too wide to be anything but unsettling to anyone else but Charles.

But safe to say, the thirteenth season went down in the history books as one crazy season of the show and while Charles retired and Raven took over as front runner with Thor as her sidekick, she still called him for input now and again.

Storm returned to her true calling of a warrior for her land - and told the journalists that she hadn't really aimed for winning - she was where she wanted to be, doing what she wanted to do.

Logan and Kurt settled down in Logan's home in the woods, and they only rarely gave interviews, but they both seemed fond of sending Charles silly seasonal cards, with ever sillier puns on them. Charles wouldn't have wanted to be without.

Charles himself? Well, he found he quite liked running Erik's castle and sprucing it up, and he had a knack for getting what he wanted from anyone - by simply being nice to them. And if he set up a flourishing joint business with Kitty when she returned, of heroes for hire, then what? He had made so many connections while working on the show, no reason why he shouldn't put that all to good work. And there were plenty of people who wanted adventure.

And Erik? The master of magnetism, Magneto, dialed down his plans for world domination and settled down, and loved his husband with all of his heart. According to Charles, the only villainous behaviour from him was in the fact that he'd stolen Charles' heart and never gave it back - and his antics in the bedroom, but that was no one else' business and never a real complaint from Charles. It wasn't like he couldn't give as well as he got.

So what if Erik occasionally went on the warpath when needed, and the dragon got out of hand? A man needed a hobby or two, didn't he?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for: Happily Ever After, My Arse!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921864) by [obsidian_harbinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsidian_harbinger/pseuds/obsidian_harbinger)


End file.
